


Mr. Lewis

by catemonsterq



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Crash Landing, F/M, Fluff, Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Phil Coulson's Cellist
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-11
Updated: 2018-10-16
Packaged: 2019-07-29 13:39:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 8,667
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16265342
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/catemonsterq/pseuds/catemonsterq
Summary: The odds of being in a plane crash is one in 11 million. Turns out, Darcy is definitely one in 11 million.Or, the time Phil spent 72 hours in the same suit hovering over Darcy's prone form.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This entire thing happened because CraftingKatie and I both wanted hurt/comfort real bad. This is a 7 chaptered completed story, I will be posting one chapter a day until it is all up.

Darcy boarded the plane that would take her from Moscow back to Portland with trepidation. She hadn’t heard from Phil since the previous night and he’d not let her travel without wishing her safely off, even verbally, since they’d started this whole mess four years ago. He was probably just on a mission, she consoled herself as she shuffled her way down the aisle and to her window seat. She tried calling him again and hung up when it went to voicemail. 

Just outside the plane, she could see the gate agents loading on all of the checked baggage. She spotted her stickered cello case on one of the carts. Her fingers tapped out a rhythm against her thigh, smooth movements passing up and down her skin as her right hand moved in time with her imaginary bow. If only she could be playing now, it would give her something to focus on other than the fact that Phil was MIA. 

Could she text Natasha or Clint and ask them if they’d seen him recently? Darcy considered just how out of line she would be in reaching out to one of Phil’s underlings and had just decided to screw propriety and call Nat when her phone buzzed in her hand. “Phil!” she cried, voice just a few decibels higher than necessary for the cramped plane. 

“Hey there, Sweetheart,” Phil’s smooth voice greeted her. “I’m sorry I’m so late, Natasha needed help getting out of a bind. Not much time until take off, is there?” 

Darcy closed her eyes and rested her head against the window next to her. “No, probably got about ten minutes before we start heading down the runway.”

“That’s good,” Phil smiled and Darcy could hear it through the phone, “Not too much longer until I get to see what you brought me from the motherland.”

“Yes, because that’s all you care about,” Darcy chuckled. “Anyway, it’s a sixteen-hour flight so I don’t think you can accurately say it’s not too much longer. And before you say it, I know you could have pulled some strings at SHIELD to get me a faster ride, but that wouldn’t be fair to the rest of the symphony now would it?”

“The rest of the symphony isn’t living with a director of a top-secret spy organization.”

“The rest of the symphony, Phil, are my friends,” Darcy said with just a hint too much bite in her tone. “I don’t intend on abandoning them on this fresh hell of an aircraft so I can boogie home and get in your pants sooner.” Phil’s breath caught in his throat at Darcy’s sharp words and guilt shot through her like lightning. “I’m sorry, Phil. I shouldn’t have snapped at you, I’m just so tired.”

“Jetlag will do that to you,” Phil acquiesced, “Why don’t I let you go so you can try and get some rest?”

“Yeah,” Darcy sighed as she felt the plane jerk into motion as it made its way towards the runway. “We’re taxiing down now anyway. Bye Phil, love you.”

“Love you too, Sweetheart. Stay safe.” The beep of the line disconnecting sounded and Darcy turned off her phone before falling fast asleep. 

 

* * *

 

Darcy was jolted awake nine hours later when an oxygen mask fell on top of her head. “Fuck,” she whispered to herself as she got her bearings. The lights overhead were flashing and there was an endless commotion in the cabin. Her time spent with Phil kicked in and before she had a chance to consider what was happening she was pulling the oxygen mask over her face and jostling the tuba player next to her to help him with his own mask. 

Before the strap had even been secured on her neighbors head the plane took a sudden dive forwards, nose angling down towards earth, snack carts rolled down the aisle pushing a flight attendant down in its path. “This is not how I wanted to die,” Darcy thought to herself as she took deep breaths in through her oxygen mask. She’d been on tour with the symphony for the past month, the constant time zone changes wreaking havoc on her relationship with Phil, not to mention her sleep schedule. All she’d wanted for the past two weeks was to rest quietly in Phil’s arms while he told her stories from his time as an Army Ranger. 

She would never get that chance now. She wasn’t even sure where they were, the map screens had all turned off about the time the emergency lights had come on. Darcy felt her heart rate pick up and called on her brief time spent trying to learn how to meditate. Now was not the time to hyperventilate, she’d need all her faculties about her if she survived the crash landing they were sure to be making any moment now. With the speed the plane was going down Darcy doubted she'd be surviving, but really why be pessimistic now. 

“I love you, Phil,” she whispered into her oxygen mask as the plane made its final descent towards the icy ground.

 

* * *

 

 

“Talk to me,” Phil’s voice was cold, hard. If Natasha wasn’t able to see his eyes she’d have no idea the amount of pain he was in right now. This was Agent Coulson through and through.

“The plane went down in the Saskatchewan province just outside of Moose Jaw. Pilot malfeasance is the most likely cause of the crash though we’ve got people looking into it to confirm it wasn’t a terrorist plot,” Natasha kept her emotions in check - concern over Darcy or her handler wouldn’t help the situation right now. “Emergency services were en route as of twenty minutes ago, no word on how the plane fared in the crash.”

“Get me on the line with local authorities,” Phil commanded as he stalked towards the front of the plane. “Clint, how long until we’re there?”

“Thirty minutes give or take,” Clint shrugged. 

“Make it in twenty,” Coulson turned on his heel and left the cockpit in silence. 

“Is anyone going to remind him that Darcy is a civilian and this is not a matter of homeland intervention  _or_ enforcement?” Clint whispered to Natasha as they followed behind him. 

“Do you want to be the one to tell him he can’t use his available resources to make sure his girlfriend is safe? Because by all means, take it away,” Natasha replied. 

“Ha, fat chance,” Clint huffed.

Natasha connected Phil through to the authorities who were on scene and ascertained that they had already sent a woman fitting Darcy’s description to the local hospital; she had been the only passenger to sustain critical injuries, the rest of the passengers having escaped mostly unscathed. Coulson directed Clint to the hospital the injured were being taken to before sitting silently in the back of the plane, anxiously awaiting their arrival. 

 

* * *

 

“Coulson, you’ll want to come over here,” Natasha radioed to him through her comm. He could see her across the buzzing lobby of the hospital and carefully made his way over to her.

Darcy lay unconscious on a stretcher beside Natasha, two nurses were attending to her while a paramedic was speaking quickly to Natasha but stopped when the redhead raised her hand. “Coulson, this is Ramirez, he brought Darcy to the hospital from the crash.” 

“Agent Coulson,” Phil nodded in the man's direction while flashing his badge, “What can you tell me?” 

“Most of the passengers are uninjured. The right wing of the aircraft sustained most of the damage, passengers seated near that wing are the ones with injuries. Twelve injuries in all. Least severe is a broken wrist, the most severe is this young lady here.” Phil cast his eyes towards Darcy’s prone form and kept his Calm Agent Face intact, though Natasha could tell it was a struggle by the small wrinkle at his forehead. 

“And her injuries?” Phil asked as he turned to face Darcy. 

“It looks like she was knocked around quite a bit, we suspect some bleeding on the brain. She’ll need a CT scan to confirm.  You’re family?” the man asked as the nurses began to wheel Darcy towards the elevator. 

“Yes,” Coulson nodded curtly, eyes following the nurses in a clear sign that the conversation was over. He began to follow behind them, Natasha right in step with him. “I want you and Clint to go to the scene of the crash, see if you can find Darcy’s cello for me. She always flew it in a bright neon green airplane case, hopefully, it stayed undamaged. I’ll let you know when we have a final report of her injuries.”

Natasha nodded and placed a hand on Phil’s bicep, squeezing gently before she turned on her heel to follow his command.

 

* * *

  

Darcy lay motionless on the hospital bed while two nurses bustled around her. Phil stood with his back against the wall in quiet contemplation of their movements, patiently waiting for them to give him a chance to go to Darcy and comfort her. Not that she’d know the difference right now - she’d been unconscious when they found her and hadn’t shown signs of waking yet. The waiting was agony, but Phil drew on his experience in the army and with SHIELD to remain patient. 

Finally, the nurses finished their tasks and left the room in peace. Phil stepped away from the wall, his carefully placed mask falling with each step he took towards the bed. There were now multiple machines hooked up to Darcy, IV needles coming out of one of her arms and bruises darkening on her face. He moved the single chair in the room to her bedside, sitting down and taking her free hand in his own and stroking his thumb softly over her knuckles. “Oh, my sweet Darcy. Please be okay,” he whispered as he pressed a kiss to her forehead. 

 


	2. Chapter 2

“How’s Phil?” Clint asked as Natasha approached him in the hospital parking lot. 

“Coulson,” Natasha corrected. 

“Still?” Clint asked. They’d both noticed the Agent mask come over their friend and boss’ face when they got the call that Darcy’s plane had gone down in Canada. Clint had spent most of the time since then piloting planes, but he trusted Natasha’s judgment on Phil and if she said he was still portraying the Agent he’d believe her. 

“He’s not broken yet, it’s been Agent Coulson through and through. He wants us to go to the scene of the crash and look for Darcy’s cello, that’s about as close to Phil as I got.”

“Her cello? That’s what’s important right now?” Clint asked incredulously. 

“You know as well as I do not to question Coulson when he’s in Agent Mode. Anyway, the cello was her prized possession, I’m sure she’ll want to know where it is as soon as she wakes up,” Natasha explained. 

“You think she will?” Clint asked, letting the anxiety he’d been having since they’d found Darcy peak through his own Agent Mask. 

“I think if she doesn’t we’re going to have a problem on our hands. Come on, let’s go find a cello.”

* * *

 

Phil only had a few minutes of quiet before more nurses came back into the room. “She’s stabilized enough for us to take her to get the CT scan, we’ll have her back soon,” a round woman with mousy brown hair and a name tag reading “Olivia,” told him as she kicked off the brakes on Darcy’s bed. 

The nurses wheeled her out of the ICU room and somehow even without the bed, it felt cramped. Weaving his way between the machines, Phil made his way over to the padded bench that serviced as a guest bed and pulled out his phone. 

“Fury,” a voice answered after a few rings.

“It’s Coulson. I’m going to need to take some time off.”

“I know,” the stern voice replied, “Natasha called me.”

Phil rolled his eyes, “Such a gossip.”

“How is she, Phil?” Fury asked after a beat. 

“Unconscious. They’re doing a CT scan now but they suspect a traumatic brain injury. I haven’t gotten to speak to a doctor yet,” his voice sounded weary even to him; he hoped Fury wouldn’t see it as a weakness. 

“Do you need anything? Clothes? A hotel room?”

Phil paused as he considered the man's offer, “Let me figure out what the prognosis is here first and take it from there. Nick? I’ll need some help getting her back into the States when she’s able to travel again. I’m not thrilled with the idea of commercial air right now and I don’t think she will be when she wakes up either.”

“Don’t worry about it,” came the reply before the line went dead in his hand. Phil scrolled through his phone idly wondering who else he would need to call. Jane for sure, though he’d wait until he had an official diagnosis before doing that. Darcy didn’t have much of a relationship with her family, he’d need to contact them but it could wait too. 

Before long the nurses were wheeling Darcy back into the room, hooking her back up to the complicated array of machines and adjusting her bed. “The doctor will come to speak to you soon,” the same nurse from earlier smiled at him before closing the door and leaving him alone. Phil had just enough time to settle himself in the chair by Darcy’s bed before the doctor came in and he was standing again to shake his hand. 

“Phil Coulson,” he said before nodding down to Darcy’s prone figure, “And my wife, Darcy Lewis.” He hoped no one questioned him about that too deeply, but he wasn’t going to take the chance of being kicked out of her hospital room in a foreign country. 

“Doctor Lee,” the man said as he accepted Phil’s hand. “Your wife’s injury is in her primary motor cortex. The CT scan shows some bleeding on her brain which is most likely why she is unconscious - easier for a brain to heal itself that way. We’re going to monitor her intracranial pressure through a catheter which will allow for some of the excess fluid to drain. If the pressure builds too much we may need to operate, but I’m hopeful that anti-inflammatories will do the trick.”

Phil paused to take in what the doctor told him, wishing someone else could be here with him to help parse out the meaning and determine the right questions to ask. “How long will she be unconscious, do you think?”

“Hard to say, though I’d guess at least the next few days. Once the anti-inflammatories start to work and the pressure recedes in her brain she should begin to regain consciousness fully. When she does wake up we’ll be able to assess her for any brain damage.”

“Okay,” Phil replied. A moment passed in silence before Phil spoke again. “What do we do until then?” He felt helpless just sitting there waiting and it hadn’t even been an hour yet. 

“We’ll be giving her medicine to prevent any seizures along with the anti-inflammatories. She’ll need to be moved every hour or two to prevent bed sores from forming. We’ll be taking her back for the catheter here shortly, but after that, it will mostly be monitoring and waiting on her body to heal itself.”

“Thank you,” Phil nodded. 

“When you think of more questions just let Olivia know, she’ll be able to help. I’ll stop by when the surgery is done to let you know how things went. Until then, Mr. Coulson.” 


	3. Chapter 3

Hours passed by in the little ICU room with little to no change. The monitors that were connected to Darcy beeped and whirred their way through time as Phil sat by her bedside waiting for her to wake up. She’d been taken away for surgery and brought back two hours later - plenty of time for Phil to have called Jane as well as Darcy’s family. 

Jane had been the harder of the two calls, the petite woman threatened to drop all of her research and fly out to Canada to be with her friend. Phil convinced her to stay put for the time being, though it was a close thing. A small part of him ached for Darcy that her own parents seemed to care less than her friends did - they had barely acknowledged the severity of her injury or that she was in the hospital at all, let alone asked any information about how they could visit with her. 

By the time the night nurse came by to check on Darcy at the beginning of his shift Phil had taken off his tie and unbuttoned the top two buttons of his shirt. Not for the first time he wished Darcy were awake to see it, she’d always loved it when he started to look a little disheveled. 

“Let me bring you a pillow and a blanket, Mr. Lewis,” the nurse, a man named Michael, offered to him. Phil opened his mouth to correct him on the name but the man was gone already. A few minutes later he came back into the room, arms filled with blankets and pillows that Phil doubted would make the bench seat that much more comfortable, still, the effort was appreciated. 

After two hours of restless turning, Phil abandoned the pretense of sleep and moved back to the chair by Darcy’s bed. That’s where Oliva found him when she came to begin her rounds the next morning, head bobbing on his shoulder as he tapped a rhythm on the armrest to stay awake. 

“You should really get some rest, sir,” Olivia said as she replaced one of the bags of fluids on the IV pole. “You won’t be any good to your wife if you’re falling asleep standing when she wakes up.”

Phil nodded, shaking himself awake, “You’re not wrong, Olivia. Maybe I’ll catch a nap later today. Do you know where I can get some coffee?” She directed him to a machine down the hall before continuing on with her check on Darcy. 

Hours later when Olivia came back just before shift change he’d finally lost his suit jacket, draping it over the unused bench that passed as a bed. “Afternoon, Olivia,” Phil smiled wanly at the friendly nurse. 

“You know,” she said as she took note of Darcy’s vitals, “there’s a shower in the room, you’re welcome to use it.”

Phil ran a hand over his 24-hours worth of stubble and shrugged, “I don’t want to miss it when she wakes up, familiar face and all.”

“Suit yourself,” Olivia smiled. “I’ll see you in twelve hours,” she said as she left the room. 

Two more days passed in much the same manner, Phil and Olivia working together to shift Darcy around the bed, each time she visited Phil looked a little more unkempt. The nurse had stopped making comments about Phil’s lack of sleep the second day in, but it didn’t stop her from shooting dirty looks his way when she noticed him shaking himself awake in the straight-backed chair by Darcy’s bedside. 

His head was nodding down to his chest again when a small movement caught his attention in his periphery. Darcy’s hands were shifting in the soothing motions she always made against her arms just before waking. Phil jerked himself out of the chair preparing to get Olivia when Darcy turned her head and opened her eyes for the first time in days. Phil had spent so long imagining this moment and what he should say to her that he tripped over his own words for a few seconds before realizing that Darcy was pulling at the tubes on her face. 

“Hold on, Darcy. You’re okay,” he said softly as he took her hands away from the machines. “You were in a plane accident on your way home from Moscow three days ago. You’ve been in a coma at a hospital in Canada ever since.” 

The nurses he’d been getting to know over the past few days were all bursting into the room at once, the flurry of action in stark contrast to the stillness of the previous days. Phil stepped back from the bed to give them room to work but his eyes never left Darcy’s, her blues eyes scared as the nurses removed the breathing tube that was preventing her from speaking. 

“Phil?” she tried to croak as soon as it was clear. A nurse was at her side with ice chips immediately and she gratefully let them melt on her tongue. 

“I’m here, Darcy. I’m not going anywhere,” Phil said as he moved back to his post by her bedside. 

“What happened?” Darcy asked, voice still hoarse and choked. 

“The pilot of your plane fell asleep and lost control of the aircraft. The wing you were sitting over broke off and you were injured,” Phil explained as calmly as he could. One by one the nurses filed out of the room until just Olivia remained. 

“I’ll need to alert Dr. Lee, he’ll want to check on her now that she’s awake,” the nurse smiled before ducking out of the room. The moment the door clicked closed Phil was over Darcy, gently tucking her hair behind her ears and pressing soft kisses to the parts of her face that were not bruised. 

“I’m so glad you’re awake,” he whispered to her softly. 

“I don’t know that I can stay that way for long,” Darcy yawned. “But I’m afraid to go to sleep, what if I don’t wake up again?” Darcy’s right hand reached out to Phil’s, missing his hand entirely and landing instead on his forearm. As if really seeing him for the first time, Darcy smiled. “Just how bad are my injuries? You’re rocking a pretty severe stubble and I don’t think I’ve ever seen your clothes so wrinkly.” 

Phil grimaced, “I flew to Canada as soon as I got news of your plane going down. I didn’t exactly have time to pack a bag.” He gestured for Darcy to scoot over as he lowered the rails on one side of her bed. “You need to rest, Darcy,” he said as he got into the small bed next to her and gathered her into his arms. “You hit your head pretty badly, you were bleeding in your brain for a little while there. It’s why you were in a coma, your body needed the energy to heal.”

As he spoke Darcy’s breath was growing more and more steady; he could feel the small puffs of air as they brushed across the skin of his chest. “Okay, Phil,” she whispered as she pressed herself further into him, “Just promise me you’ll be here when I wake up?” 

“Wouldn’t dream of going anywhere,” he replied as he wrapped his arm around her. She was fast asleep by the time Dr. Lee and Nurse Olivia came back in the room. Carefully he extricated himself from Darcy’s grasp before raising the rails on the side of the bed once more. 

“You know,” Olivia said quietly as the doctor began checking over Darcy’s readings, “You could take that shower now.”

“Ah, I could,” Phil said as he scratched at his face, “But I don’t have any clean clothes so I’d just as soon not.”

Doctor Lee turned to address Phil before Olivia could respond, “She’ll likely be in and out of consciousness for a few days with progressively longer bouts of being awake. Next time she’s up hopefully we’ll be able to run some tests and see how her brain is doing. Until then I’m afraid it’s just more of the same.”

“So there’s no telling when she’ll wake up again?” Phil asked. 

“Unfortunately not, though I’d suspect it’ll be in a few hours or so.”

Just as soon as the commotion had started it fizzled out, it seemed, and Phil was left once again alone in the ICU room with his resting girlfriend. He was about to settle back into the chair when the door creaked opened once more. “Yes?” Phil asked, moving to stand as Olivia peeked her head around the drawn curtain. 

“I brought you these so you could shower,” the nurse said as she handed over a stack of green scrubs and a towel. “I figured now that she’d woken up you may be more willing to step away.”

“Thank you,” Phil smiled, “I hope you won’t be offended that I wait until after she’s woken up again? I promised her I wouldn’t leave her and I don’t want to be made a liar for a shower.”

“No offense taken, Mr. Lewis,” the nurse smiled at him before ducking out of the room. 


	4. Chapter 4

Thirteen hours passed by uneventfully until Darcy woke up again, during which time Phil got no more than two hours of disjointed sleep. He’d rolled up the sleeves of his shirt to his elbows, gotten multiple cups of coffee and settled in by Darcy’s bed to read until she woke up. 

“Phil?” Darcy murmured as she shifted in her hospital bed, “My head hurts…” 

Phil startled in his chair at her voice, sitting up straight and taking her hand in one hand while he pressed the on call nurses button with the other. “I’m afraid that’s to be expected, Darcy,” Phil explained carefully. “ You hit it pretty bad when the plane went down.”

The night nurse, Michael, hurried in followed closely by a doctor Phil had yet to meet. “Mrs. Lewis, so glad to see you awake,” the doctor smiled at her as he began looking over her charts. “Can you tell me what year it is?” 

Darcy struggled for a moment before deciding, “2014, I think. The symphony was supposed to go to Moscow in 2014 and Phil said I was coming home from Moscow when I was in the plane crash.”

“What’s the last thing you remember?” the doctor asked.

Darcy took another moment to consider her answer, “I talked to Phil about rubik’s cubes, I think.”

The doctor looked to Phil with a question in his eyes, “That was last week,” Phil commented. “Thursday, I believe.”

“Okay,” the doctor smiled, “It’s fairly normal for coma patients to have some amnesia upon waking up. Typically it resolves itself within a few days. We’ll just see how that goes, hmm?” When both Phil and Darcy had nodded the doctor continued on. “Can you wiggle the toes on your right foot? Good, and your left?” he asked, noting her responses on his clipboard. “How about making a fist with your right hand? Good,” he said as her right hand balled up and then released. “Your left?” Darcy made to clinch her left hand but as hard as she tried she couldn’t get her fingers to move. 

“Doctor?” Darcy asked, her voice quivering in fear as she stared at her own disobedient hand. 

“Your injury was to the area of your brain that controls movements on the left side of your body. Can you move your arms for me?” the doctor asked gently. Darcy moved both of her arms, though her left lagged a little behind her right. He ran through the rest of the tests quickly then took some notes on Darcy’s chart and turned to address the couple. 

“The inability to control your left hand is not surprising given the injury. The brain is still healing and you’ll likely need to regrow some of the connections from your nerve cells to your brain. That can take time, and physical therapy as well.”

“Okay,” Phil nodded, “What else?” 

The doctor sighed, “Nothing that I’ve noticed yet, but we’ll obviously need to do more extensive testing. You can rest for now, but later we’ll have the doctor on call run you through a battery of tests to rule out any other complications and I’ll be sure to get you set up with a physical therapist for your hand. You’re probably looking at about three months recovery time, minimum.” 

“Thank you, Doctor,” Phil nodded before looking to Darcy, who seemed somehow small tucked into the hospital bed. The doctor paused to see if Darcy had any questions for him; after a few seconds of silence he turned on his heel and walked out of the room. 

“Phil?” Darcy’s small, scared voice called to him from the bed. “I’m scared,” there were tear tracks down her cheeks and Phil hated that he had no way to easily fix this problem for her. 

“I know, Sweetheart. But it’s nothing that’s not expected, Darce. You’ll be okay,” he said as he lowered the bed rails and scooted into the bed with her, hoping what he said would be true sooner than later. 

Darcy took a shuddering breath in before tucking herself to Phil’s chest and curling her good arm around him. “I’m supposed to perform Bartok's Concerto for Orchestra next month. What if I can’t do it?”

“I’m sure Dr. Caldwell will understand why you aren’t able to. He’s called me a few times since the symphony got back to Portland.” Phil said as he rubbed gently at her back. 

“Shit, Phil!” Darcy exclaimed as she tried to shove herself upright in the cramped bed. “How’s Robert? Did he survive?!”

“Hey now, Darcy, lay back down?” Phil’s hands gently pulled her back to his chest, “Your cello is fine, though both Natasha and Clint have been pestering me for information on your choice for a name since they saw his bedazzled case. Dr. Caldwell has assured me Robert is being kept safe in his office until your return to Portland.”

“Okay,” Darcy said quietly as she brought her left hand up to her face and willed it into following her instructions. After a moment of nothing she sighed and gave up. “What if I can’t play cello anymore?” she asked in a scared voice, still staring at her traitorous hand. 

Phil took a deep breath, “I don’t think it will come to that, Darce. But if it does, I’ll help you find something else you love just as much. If you miss the music we’ll become patrons of the symphony. And if that’s too hard for you then we’ll just find some other way for you to be involved.”

Darcy sniffled as tears rolled down her cheeks and her useless hand refused to wipe them away. “How can you be so sure of everything?” 

“Oh, Darcy,” Phil sighed as he squeezed the arm around her waist tighter, “The only thing I’m sure about is you.” He kissed the top of her head then, unsure of what else to do to help her but certain she’d let him know. A few minutes passed in relative silence before Darcy spoke up again. 

“Hey, Phil? Do you think the hospital will let you take a shower?” She felt his chest shake underneath her head, “What?”

“Nothing, just the nurse, Olivia, has been after me to take one for a few days now. Do I smell bad?” 

“No,” Darcy huffed as she turned her head and propped it on his chest to face him. “It’s not that, it’s just that you’re looking rather worse for the wear.” 

“I thought you liked me disheveled,” Phil smiled down at her. 

“There’s disheveled and then there’s ‘my-clothes-are-so-wrinkled-they-don’t-hold-their-shape’, Phil.”

“Touche,” he replied as he gazed down at his formless clothes. “I told Olivia I’d shower after you woke up next. I didn’t want you to wake up and me not be there after I promised you I’d stay.”

“You do realize I can probably hear the shower from the bed, right?” Darcy asked, voice dripping with sarcasm that helped reassure both of them that she’d be alright. 

“Forgive me for worrying about my girlfriend who was in a coma for three days,” Phil said dryly.

“Oh, is that what I am here? Don’t think I didn’t catch them calling me Mrs. Lewis. Just because I have a brain injury doesn’t mean I stopped observing.”

“Just wait, sometimes they call me Mr. Lewis. I haven’t had a chance to correct them. I, uh, told them we were married so they wouldn’t kick me out of your room at the end of the night.”

Darcy laughed, “To be fair, you’d become Mr. Lewis faster than I’d ever become Mrs. Coulson and you know it.”

“I do,” Phil smiled.

“Go take a shower, Mr. Lewis,” Darcy said as she shuffled away from him. “I promise to be here when you get back.”

 

* * *

 

Phil enjoyed the shower more than he had any right to, but then again he supposed he hadn’t had much of a reprieve from the hospital in 72 hours and the warm water coursing down his back was doing wonders for his tense muscles. After a few minutes passed he regretfully began soaping himself up and readying himself to leave the warm, steamy room. He pulled on the green scrubs Olivia had brought him and found a small plastic bag to shove his dirty clothing in. 

Darcy must have been close to sleep - she startled herself awake at the sound of the bathroom door opening and closing again. “See,” she mumbled sleepily, “M’still here.”

Phil smiled at her, “I know, sweetheart.”

“C’mere,” Darcy said as she scooted to the edge of the bed, grateful for the guardrails that held her up. “Cuddles.” Darcy, whose filter was never great to begin with, lost all semblance of a filter when she was half-awake the way she was now. Phil was surprised the only thing she was demanding was cuddles but he was more than happy to oblige her. 

“I like your scrubs,” Darcy whispered into his chest as he pulled her body against his. “Get to see more of your arms this way.” Even as she spoke her right arm was stroking at the bare skin of his bicep that the short sleeves exposed. 

“Go to sleep, Darcy,” Phil replied as he pressed a gentle kiss to the crown of her head, just behind her injury. Her breath evened out in minutes, chest rising and falling steadily against his own, and for the first time in days Phil finally felt just a little bit at peace. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I never managed to work the backstory behind Darcy's cellos name (Robert) into the story, so here goes:
> 
> Darcy has always been the type of person to name her belongings and refer to them lovingly. When she was 10 and started playing the cello she had a crush on a boy in her class by the name of "Bobby"; the crush didn't last, but the name for the cello did. When she went to college she had upgraded her cello and consequently the cellos name - instead of Bobby he was now known as Bob. Three years ago when Darcy had decided to become a professional musician and Phil had bought her a cello to celebrate she insisted that a Professional Cello would go by Robert.


	5. Chapter 5

“Hem hem,” came a rough cough from the foot of Darcy’s bed as fingers dug into the ball of Phil’s feet. 

He startled awake, “Michael, hi.”

“You know I can’t let you stay there,” Michael admonished as he began taking notes of Darcy’s vitals.

“Yeah,” Phil sighed, “Sorry.” He carefully extricated himself from Darcy’s grasp and scooted off the bed. 

“There’s a hotel around the corner if you were wondering.”

Phil blushed as he backed himself up to the bench bed and sat down, “Yeah. I, uh, don’t want to leave her alone.”

“I understand,” Michael said as he replaced an IV bag. “But she’s in good hands here if you decide to go.”

“Thanks,” Phil muttered as he settled back on the hard bench. 

He was awake again in under two hours, his hip aching as it lay against the bench. He moved back to the chair by Darcy’s bed and picked up the book he’d set down earlier. The time ticked by slowly; Michael came by another time but stayed silent as he made his notes and left. 

“Phil?” Darcy murmured a few hours later, her arm reaching out for him and hitting the guardrail of the bed. 

“I’m right here, Darcy,” Phil said as he sat up and reached out to grab her hand. 

“Did we talk before the plane left?” she asked, sitting up and scooting closer to the edge of the bed. 

“Yes,” Phil replied, “I called you while you were in the plane. We talked until the plane began taxiing down the runway.”

“I think I remember,” Darcy yawned. “I dreamed about it.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” she replied as she rotated the pillow and hugged it to her chest. “Natasha had a mission and you couldn’t call me until late?”

Phil sighed, “Yes, that’s what happened. I’m sorry I didn’t-”

“Don’t, Phil. You were doing your job and you still called me.” Phil stared down at his hands in his lap without replying. “Phillip J. Coulson, you cannot tell me that you are superstitious.”

“Darcy, you have to admit it was the first time I wasn’t able to talk to you while you were still in the airport at least,” he replied, rolling his eyes as he attempted to dismiss Darcy’s statement. 

“Mmmhmm,” Darcy smiled. “Hey, why are you all the way over there anyway?” she asked as she reached her hand out to Phil’s. 

“Michael disapproved of us sharing a bed.”

Darcy rolled her eyes, “Figures.”

“I should let him know you’re awake,” Phil sighed as he leaned over to press the call button. 

Darcy groaned, “He’s going to make me do tests, isn’t he?” 

“Yes,” Phil replied, “But if you’re good I’ll bring you some coffee for after.”

“Oh, Phil,” Darcy said dramatically as she shifted on the bed and sat up straight, “You really do love me.”

The door opened before Phil could reply, Michael, rushing in with a doctor on his tails. “You’ll be okay?” he asked as he backed away from her bed. 

“Fine, I promise,” Darcy smiled at him, “Go. Latte, extra large.”

“Second floor, but make hers a decaf,” Michael called out to him when Phil left the room. He could hear Darcy whining about decaf coffee as he headed towards the elevator

There was, in fact, an espresso bar on the second floor and when Phil ordered two lattes the workers took one look at his scrubs and gave him the hospital employee discount. He didn’t get a chance to dissuade them so he tipped them fifty percent instead. 

When he got back to Darcy’s room the medical team was on their way out. “We’ll be back after awhile with the results,” Michael said to Phil as he held the door opened for him. 

“Hey there,” Phil smiled, holding out the coffee to Darcy. “One decaf latte.”

“Death before decaf,” Darcy grumbled even as she took a sip from the cup. 

“Yes, well I recently learned what it’s like when I thought you might be dead and I’d rather not experience that again so you’ll excuse me for following the nurse's orders,” Phil snapped without thinking about it. Darcy took a long, slow sip of her coffee and stayed silent. 

“I’m sorry,” Phil said a moment later. “I shouldn’t have snapped at you.” He sipped at his own coffee, thankful he was allowed the regular brew. The lack of sleep was wearing on him, it was the only reason he’d lost his temper with Darcy.

“Thanks for the coffee, Phil,” she said finally. “Sounds like you could use a lot of it.”

“Yeah,” he sighed. “That bench isn’t the most comfortable bed, but I’ll manage.”

“You know,” Darcy said as she took the lid off of her cup to have better access to the delicious liquid, “You could go get a hotel room tonight and get some actual sleep.”

“Nah,” Phil dismissed the suggestion without a thought, “I don’t want to leave you alone.”

“I’ll be fine,” Darcy tried to assure him.

“So will I. It’s not the first time I’ve gotten by on little sleep, it won’t be the last either.”

“We’ll see about that, Mr. Lewis,” she smirked and Phil knew it wouldn’t be the last he heard about it. 

“How’s your head?” Phil asked, changing the subject with ease. 

“Hurts. And I thought that regrowing nerve pathways wouldn’t be bad because without nerves how can I feel, but I was so wrong.”

“Oh?” 

“Yeah. My entire hand has this tingling pain. Almost like when your leg falls asleep and you’re on pins and needles?”

“That can’t be comfortable,” Phil grimaced as he considered the sensation. They chatted easily for a little while, Darcy drifted back to sleep not long after Michael came back to let them know that Darcy’s tests came back as they had expected and that she’d have an appointment with a physical therapist later in the morning. 

Olivia came by shortly after the shift change, jostling Darcy awake with a gentle tug on her foot. “Your husband looks good in scrubs, Mrs. Lewis,” she said in lieu of a good morning. 

“I know,” Darcy yawned. “I told him the same thing.”

“Now if only I could get him to get some decent sleep,” Olivia continued talking to Darcy as though Phil wasn’t sitting right next to her bed. “He could pack his dirty clothes in the bags under his eyes.” 

“I told him he should go to a hotel tonight but he’s stubborn,” Darcy sighed as the nurse changed out the IV bags on the pole above her. 

“Ah, stubborn sure, but he cares a lot about you,” the nurse winked, looking at Phil with a smile. “Your physical therapist will be by in a few minutes to get you started with some easy exercises,” she said as she made her way out the door. 

The day passed in the same way most of the previous days at the hospital had gone for Phil, the only difference being Darcy’s occasional bouts of consciousness, each one punctuated by her insistence that he get some actual sleep that night. It didn’t help that the last time she woke up before dinner it had been to Phil repeatedly shaking himself awake in the chair. 

“Fine,” Phil sighed at last, “I’ll walk to the hotel around the corner and get some sleep. Maybe they can wash my suit, too.”

“Good,” Darcy smiled, “We’ll both be better off after you slept some, and I like the scrubs but it’ll be good to see you looking normal.” Her hands reached up to scratch at the beard growth that had taken over the lower half of Phil’s face, “Maybe see if they have a razor, too?”

“You’re sure you’ll be okay?” he asked, doubt suddenly overtaking him as he considered leaving Darcy alone in the hospital for hours. 

“Yep,” Darcy said, popping the p. “I’ll be fine. I’ve slept without you before, you know.”

“Yes, but,” Phil started to argue. 

“Nope,” Darcy cut him off, “You already said you’d go to a hotel. Get out of here and go get some sleep, Phil. I love you, but go.”

“Okay, okay,” he huffed as he leaned over to kiss Darcy goodnight, “I know when I’m not wanted.” 

The walk to the hotel was quick and the man at the front desk was happy to send his suit to the en house dry cleaner and offer him a cheap razor and shaving cream to go with the tiny sized toiletries that waited for him in the hotel room. The hotel shower was more refreshing than the hospital one had been, though it was still nothing compared to the high pressured shower he had at his own home. Once he was clean and freshly shaven he tucked himself into the hotel bed and found himself asleep within minutes of hitting the hotel pillow. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One chapter and an epilogue left! I will post both of them tomorrow so if you're following along be sure to read chapter 6 before chapter 7.


	6. Chapter 6

Darcy had woken up briefly at midnight with an urgent need to use the restroom. She’d not made the short trek from her bed to the bathroom unassisted yet, but she was certain she’d be able to manage it now. Carefully she got out of the bed using her right hand to navigate the IV cords that tethered her to the pole. Slowly she made her way towards the bathroom, used the facilities, then shuffled her way back into bed. 

“See?” she thought to herself, “I’m totally fine without Phil here.” She was asleep again within minutes. 

 

* * *

 

_“Goddammit, Mindy,” Darcy thought to herself as she spotted a silver flute hurtling down the floor of the plane just under her feet. “Can’t just practice her fingerings on her body like the rest of us. I hope she appreciates this.” She bent down, careful to hold the oxygen mask to her face as she reached out for the instrument. Just as her fingers clasped around the cold metal the plane made contact with the ground, jolting Darcy forward headfirst into the armrest in front of her._

She woke with a gasp of air, chest pounding with anxiety as she sat straight up in her bed. “Phil,” she started to call out before remembering that he wasn’t there. “Oh,” she said to herself as she drew her legs to her chest and buried her face in the hollow it made. 

“Mrs. Lewis?” Michael called to her from the doorway, “Are you alright? Your heart rate is elevated.”

“Yes,” Darcy replied immediately as she straightened out in the bed. “No. I mean, probably? I think I had a nightmare, is all.”

“Would you like something to help calm you down so you can get back to sleep?” the nurse asked as he handed Darcy her cup of water. 

“No, I think I’ll just wait for Phil to get back,” Darcy replied as she noted the time. “He’s an early riser, I expect I’ll see him soon.”

“Okay, you let me know if you change your mind.”

It was only three am and Darcy knew she had about two hours before Phil would likely be back, and that was assuming he came back as soon as he woke up. Still, she didn’t trust herself to go back to sleep right now. She was fairly certain that nightmare had really been her remembering the plane wreck. In fact, the more she thought about it the more details she remembered and the more certain she became. 

Michael came back to check on her after forty-five minutes. Her breath was still coming fast and her heart rate, though lowered, was still elevated. “You’re sure you don’t want anything? You really need to rest,” he asked, concern evident in the pitch of his eyebrows. 

“Positive,” Darcy replied. 

An hour and a half later when Phil came walking into the ICU lobby he could see Darcy struggling to stay awake from the nurses' station. “Michael?” he began to ask as her head started its downward descent to her chest before popping up once more. 

“She had a nightmare a few hours ago. I tried to give her something to help her go back to sleep but she refused; she wanted to wait for you. I was giving her another 30 minutes and if she wasn’t asleep yet I was going to dose her anyway.”

“Thanks,” Phil replied before turning on his heel and walking into Darcy’s hospital room. “Now which one of us is avoiding a good night’s sleep, hmm?” he teased her gently as he lowered the guardrail and got into the bed with her. 

“I’m so glad you’re here,” Darcy replied as she wrapped her body around him. “I had a nightmare.”

“Mmmhmm,” Phil hummed. “Michael told me. Want to tell me about it?” 

“I think I remember the plane crash,” Darcy yawned. “Like, it actually crashing.” Her body shuddered against his and he held onto her tightly. 

“That must have been scary, I’m sorry I wasn’t here.”

“You’re here now, though,” Darcy smiled as she tucked her head further into the crook of his neck and shoulder. 

“Why don’t you get some more sleep. I promise I’ll stay right here.”

“Promise?” Darcy asked, sleepily as her good hand grasped at his freshly laundered shirt. 

“Not even Michael’s disapproving tuts will pull me away.”

“Good,” Darcy smiled, already halfway to sleep. 

 

* * *

 

Dr. Lee came by later in the afternoon with discharge papers for Darcy and a list of home exercises she should do before she gets a follow-up appointment with a doctor in the States. 

“So I guess we’re blowing this pop stand?” Darcy asked once the doctor had left the room. 

“Seems like it,” Phil replied. “I want you to come back to DC with me, Darcy. I don’t want you going back to Portland alone.”

“But all my stuff is there,” Darcy countered.

“I know, but I can’t work from Portland and you need help until you’re back to 100%. Besides, I can fly out to Portland this week to get your things and be home in time for dinner.”

Darcy knew he was right, she still couldn’t move her fingers and staying awake for more than two or three hours was out of the question. “Phil,” Darcy asked suddenly, “How are we going to get home?” It had just occurred to her that she would likely have to get on another plane no matter where they went when she left the hospital and she wasn’t sure she was ready for that just yet. 

“I’ll call Clint and have him come to pick us up in a jet. You and I both know that Natasha would have his hide if he risked your safety for one minute.”

“I know you’re right but that doesn’t make it any easier,” Darcy admitted. 

“I know. But you’re brave and if we take a SHIELD jet then the travel time will be shorter anyway,” Phil reassured her. Before Darcy could respond, Phil had picked up his phone and was calling Clint to request the pickup. “Oh, and Clint? Have Natasha bring Darcy a change of clothes, please?” he added as he watched Darcy walk to the bathroom with the hospital gown untied at her back. 


	7. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I POSTED THE END OF THIS STORY TODAY, TOO. PLEASE BE SURE TO READ CHAPTER 6 BEFORE READING THIS CHAPTER!

Phil unlocked the door to his apartment and was met with the not-quite-dulcet tones of Darcy practicing her scales on Robert. She’d shown a marked improvement in the two months since she’d left the hospital, but she was still struggling to get back to her previous playing ability. 

“Hi, Sweetheart,” he greeted her, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “You’re sounding good.”

“Don’t mock me,” Darcy replied bitterly. 

“I’m not,” Phil replied. “You’re definitely getting better.”

Darcy rested the cello on the floor and turned to face him pouting, “I still can’t play my scales smoothly, Phil.”

The third time Darcy had pulled out her cello to start practicing scales and gotten frustrated at her skill level Phil had immediately known it would be a problem. He was lucky, she always practiced in the same spot in his office just to the left of the computer. The next time she had pulled out the cello to practice, Phil busied himself with reports on his computer and surreptitiously recorded her practice. He’d been waiting for the right time to play the recording for her and he didn’t think it would get better than this. 

“Darce, come here,” Phil said as he sat down in front of his computer and pulled up the file from the week before. “Listen to this and then tell me you aren’t getting better.” The recording started up and Darcy could hear the disjointed sound of her playing scales, a definitive pause between each note as she forced her fingers into the right positions, wrong notes peppering the scale as she moved her way down the instrument. 

“You’re playing so much better than you were last week. I didn’t hear a single wrong note in the scale you were playing when I got home.”

“Yeah,” Darcy admitted, though she was staring down at her feet avoiding looking at Phil in the eye. 

“And you’ve been able to get from note to note faster, too.”

“I know.” 

Phil sighed and pulled her into his lap. “Be patient with yourself, Darce. You know you’re making good progress and they said it would be at least three months before you were fully healed anyway.” 

“You’re right,” Darcy sighed as she shuffled in his lap so she could drape her legs over the armrest of the chair. “How are you always right,” she teased as she picked up his left hand and toyed with the gold band that rested on his fourth finger, “Mr. Lewis?” 

“Just lucky, Mrs. Lewis,” Phil smiled as he played with the diamond ring on her own left hand, “Just lucky.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for coming on this journey with me! This was my first time writing Phil/Darcy and I really enjoyed it. Thank you to all the readers and commenters who let me know you were enjoying it. I'm working on a few other fics right now, hopefully, I'll be posting something new soon.
> 
> Come say hi to me on [tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/catemonsterq)!


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